The clarity lies not in the form nor is in the distance,
as it so lies in the subliminal vision of the seeker or is a lie.
As the traveller as lost in the myriad canvases,
as he knows he can browse & not belong,
as to the tree, the soil it wants to uproot itself from,
ever yearning to romance the fantasy on the horizon.
To each his horizon and his sky,
can never divvy that with a spirit not his.
© Giridhar Raju N M